Lord of the Kingdom of IKEA
by Je Sono Aka
Summary: Also in “What Do You Say?” Summary: What happens each time an IKEA opens? Answer: Sweden advances his global empire. In which the nations learn, strangely enough, that Sweden is also the personification of IKEA.


**Summary: It is well know amongst all scholars of Hetalia that Russia goal in life is to, basically, create a global empire, uniting all nations.**

**Or:**

**In which Sweden has almost created a global empire under the flag of IKEA, and the nations wonder what happens every-time a new IKEA opens. AKA Sweden is IKEA.**

"Crikey, mate- isn't this going to be awesome?" Grins Australia, turning to the nation beside him, who happens to be Denmark. The blond smiles, patting the younger nations head.

"Aw yeah- I wonder how Sweden would of felt like." Denmark elbows Norway who's next to him. "Aye- does Sweden know?" Norway shakes his head.

"Don't think so." He turns to Finland. "Finland- does Sweden know?" Finland looks so tired, but there's a gleam in his eyes.

"Nope!" He says, popping the 'P'. "I did everything I could! I blocked the news, I distracted him, I let Sealand bug him. I even let him call me 'wife' so he could wonder why. So, no." Denmark looks giddy.

"Aw yeah~ let's go!"

"Hey Awesome number two- what's going on?" It's Prussia now.

"He doesn't know." Denmark whispers loudly.

"Oh, who? What are we talking about?" Says America, bouncing over, the Awesome Trio now complete.

"Today!" Says Prussia. "The reason we're in Australia for a reason other than survival games!" America gasps.

"Huh? Oooooooooooooh. Are you saying. . .he doesn't know?" Denmark shakes his head, grinning.

"He's going to brood for days! He's going to cry so much and Finland will get to him and comfort him and be appreciated, and he won't be gloating and maybe I'll actually get him drunk!"

Today was a special day. It was cold, yes. A cold May 18, 2020 in Sydney, Australia. And why was it a special day?

Because Sweden wasn't here.

Sweden wasn't here, but other nations beside the Nordics were, for once. Including the Nordics, there was Australia, New Zealand, England, America, Canada (Norway was friends with him), Hong Kong, Taiwan, India, Prussia, Austria, Hungary, Germany, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, France, and Spain. They were all infront of a large building. And what was so special about this day and the building?

Today, a new IKEA was opening. And for the first time in history, Sweden wasn't there. Sweden, who knew the prices of every piece of furniture, it's name, how to assemble it; the recipes of all the meals served in the cafeteria. Sweden who had been buds with the founder and would sometimes live in an IKEA for a few nights every few months was not here. This had all been planned. The government had even talked last minute to this IKEA's manager to specially allow the nations to enter the IKEA a day before the public.

And there it is, the grand blue and yellow building with it's spotless windows and smooth pavement.

"Do the honors." Says Australia, nodding to Denmark, England behind him, kinda happy that the intimidating Swede wasn't here.

"With pleasure." Says the blue-eyed blond. He steps towards the automatic doors, gleeing. For once, it wasn't Sweden that would be the first one to officially step into a new IKEA. "Oh yeah."

When the doors open, a pleasant burst of heat hits the closest nations, and Denmarks, faces.

And then the blood curling screams begin.

.

.

SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDEN

.

.

It was a nice day. Denmark was out somewhere; Finland, Norway, and Iceland where in Australia for something. The dog was with the neighbor, Sealand was being babysat by Wales.

Nice and peaceful.

Until it wasn't.

He's in his pajama's still- dark blue pants, a loose light blue t-shirt, and his glasses still on the bedside table upstairs. He's reclining in a chair he got from IKEA, right next to the window, sunlight streaming through. The curtains were torn by the dog and scribbled on by Sealand, so now its just a seven-foot long bare, iron rod on top of the window. He needs to go to IKEA and get some nice curtains.

And then he feels it.

It's like a burst of electricity. Usually, it's invigorating. It makes him happy, it makes him high, it makes him feel absolutely wonderful, as if he were a helium balloon. But not this time.

With a snap of his legs, the chair is un-reclined and he's sitting ramrod strait, knuckles white as long fingers clutch the armrests. Blue eyes narrow. His teeth grit together, and pain flashes in his heart. The pain that a child gets when he goes to get a toy but there's only one left and his annoying brother takes it instead without warning.

"No." He whispers. "NO!" He roars. In a blink of an eye, the Swede is standing up, hair wild. He reaches an arm up, jumping, and he tears off the curtain pole off the wall, a perfectly balanced weapon, clutched in his hands. And with the teleportation power nations can only summon in the most dire of events, such as war, Sweden teleports to Australia, lips twitching to pull back into a snarl.

.

.

WONDERFUL WONDERFUL SWEEEEEEDEEEEEEEEN

.

.

"AAAAAAAAAAH!" Screams more than one nation. Denmark has already stepped foot on the glorious, polished wooden floor, turning around in confusion.

"Huh? What's wrong?" He then see's America, who's gone pale. And then Russia, who's being supported by a poor China, face turning blue. Finland is trembling almost as much as Latvia usually does.

"D-d-d-den-d-den-m-m-mark, j-just d-don't t-turn a-around." Denmark raises an eyebrow.

"Why? Is there a robot zombie?"He knows something is wrong when he see's that Switzerland has dropped his gun and Prussia hasn't made a sound.

"So you think you could beat me." Denmark gulps and turns around. There, in all his rumpled glory, id Sweden. Tall, with the air conditioner gently moving his messy hair and his loose shirt, bare feet expertly positioned on the ground, and a curtain pole taller than Russia in his hands, held like a weapon and with the confidence that it's as deadly as Denmark's own axe.

"Uh..." manages Denmark, taking a step back with the other nations. Sweden grins darkly.

"I am Berwald Oxenstierna, a viking who sailed the coldest sea's, killed the most ruthless people. I am the personification of Sweden, and-" he takes a step forward, turning sideways and drawing his arms back like he's about to swing at Denmark, eyes looking bluer without his glasses. The nations flinch, as if all of them were going to be hit. "I. . ." All the lights in the IKEA turn on to their full brightness and music starts to okay from the speakers. He holds the pole out with one hand, like a circus ring master at the entrance of a circus, beckoning the people in. "-Am also the personification of the United Empire of IKEA, and I welcome you all to our newest addition, the Australian IKEA! We have Swedish meatballs freshly made on floor two, and we have a first-five-nation special discount in living room furniture, so do help yourself." Most of the nation's jaws drop in shock.

Most of them.

"Damn it- I was really hoping he wouldn't do this again." Denmark grumbles. Sweden steps forward and slings an arm around Denmark, eyes dilated as if he were on something.

"Don't be angry. I can show you the world of IKEA, and you will be happy again!"

"I gave up after the forty-third IKEA." Says Finland. And all the nations enter, Switzerland hauling Liechtenstein onto his back as he runs to the living room furniture section, Austria on his tail.

Yup.

This was definitely an IKEA.

**1\. So. . .Sweden. At this point, he's become IKEA-personified as well. And his personality changes at the opening of every IKEA, and he welcomes everyone in. Thats why the Nordics didn't want him there- he may seem nice, but he becomes hyperdrived on IKEA facts and stuff and he becomes a different person, essentially. He hugged Denmark. That would creep Denmark out so much. So...yup. The ending was so weird.**

**2\. Yeah. The second half of this entire thing just appeared after I figured out fifteen minutes ago that I'm mildly scared of cockroaches after one appeared in my bathroom.**

**AN: Recommendations, please!**


End file.
